


Hungover Gal Pals

by trashytummiez



Category: DCU (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Burping, Emeto Mention, F/F, Hangover, Hiccups, I Ship It, Lesbian Character, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28740471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashytummiez/pseuds/trashytummiez
Summary: Harley and Ivy awaken from a night of binging suffering the consequences something fierce.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Kudos: 17





	Hungover Gal Pals

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr for additional content! :)
> 
> http://trashytummiez.tumblr.com/

Harley slumped over the top of the couch and groaned with misery. Her face sank into the top of the couch with her arms wrapped around it.

Poison Ivy emerged from the bedroom with her red hair frazzled and looking utterly miserable while she held the side of her head. “Ooooh man, my head feels like it’s spinning. How much did we drink last night, Harl?”

Harley lifted up her head to burp loudly then let her head flop back into the top of their couch.

“...That much?” Ivy asked, sitting down at their dining table and leaning back to hold her head some more. “You didn’t throw up again, did you?”

Harley nodded and pulled her head back up again. “Yuh-hurrrp-huh...but don’t worry, Red. I puked out the window like a lady so we’re good. Though, that firefighter seemed kinda pissed...good thing he had his helmet on...”

“...Thank you for sharing that,” Ivy said with a sour look on her face.

“That’s what BFF’s are fer, Red...” Harley said with a groggy giggle that ended in her groaning some more. She held her throbbing head with one hand and wrapped an arm around her stomach with the other. Harley’s stomach churned in a sickeningly sour way that even Ivy could hear. 

The look on Harley’s face became preoccupied with discomfort. Then, she held a fist to her mouth, puffing out her cheeks again while one hand remained firmly rested against her belly.

Ivy looked off anxiously. “You’re not about to throw up again, are you? Because I swear, if you do...”

Fortunately, Harley didn’t vomit. Instead, a large burp exited her mouth and forced her hand back as it pushed out from her throat. Ivy breathed a sigh of relief while Harley sighed with satisfaction, giving her stomach a few pats of relief. “Haaah...needed that,” she mumbled.

But the satisfaction was short lived. Harley climbed over the couch and flopped backwards so she was laying down on top of it.

“Reeeeed, make my tummy hurt less please...” Harley whined aloud. Ivy recoiled from the loud pitch of her girlfriends voice.

“...Not so loud,” Ivy almost hissed. Still, she got up and sat down the edge of their couch. Harley rested the back of her head on Ivy’s lap while Ivy slid her hand down to Harley’s stomach and began to tenderly stroke it with the tips of her fingers. It felt like it was sticking out a little bit, like there was the slightest hint of fat on the surface of Harley’s stomach. Just the way Ivy liked it.

Harley sighed heavenly, getting more relaxed to Ivy’s treatment. But both women still looked miserable. 

“...Why did we drink so much anyway?” Ivy asked, wishing she’d made some coffee before getting on the couch with her girlfriend. She was going to be too comfortable to want to get up again.

Harley hiccuped loudly, causing her stomach to jolt in Ivy’s hand and huffed. “Dunno. Think we were celebrating somethin’. Did Mistah Jay die again?”

Ivy shrugged because she had no clue. All she could do was rub Harley’s grumbling stomach softly all over. Harley relaxed to her touch, sinking into the couch and stretching out in a more relaxed manner, which only encouraged Ivy to rub more of Harley’s belly while the two sat together on the couch.

“Y’know that dancing monkey toy, where you wind the monkey up and he starts banging those symbols together?” Ivy asked.

“Oh, Mister Banana Butt? The monkey in my head?” Harley said almost excitedly, but wound down when her louder voice made her own head hurt.

Ivy shushed Harley for the same reason, but nodded anyway. “Yeah, that. Feels like he’s banging those symbols against the sides of my head right now...” She groaned miserably and rubbed her face in an exhausted manner. “Uuuuuuuuugh, my head’s killing me...”

Harley muffled a really wet burp that rumbled in her closed mouth and gagged a little. “Yuck...don’t remember eatin’ that...”

“Well, you do feel a little bloated right now,” Ivy observed. She placed her hand against the center of Harley’s exposed stomach and pressed her fingers into the surface of Harley’s belly. Her fingertips sank slightly into it and she was able to grab the surface of her stomach and give it a light jiggle, making Harley hiccup again. “Did you eat anything or did you just drink way more than I did?”

Harley hiccuped yet again, making her stomach jolt and jiggle just ever so slightly. “Are we reenactin’ that Hangover movie? Is it gonna turn out that our friend was in my tummy all this time’n we just didn’t know it but went on some crazy pointless adventure anyway?”

Ivy stared at her girlfriend. “...Maybe we should just stop asking questions and just sit here and not...die...”

“...Kay.”

Ivy slumped lazily against the couch, sighing heavily while she continued running her hand up and down Harley’s curvy stomach. The leather-clad woman sighed in a more relaxed state and enjoyed the sensation to the fullest. Despite how utterly hung over Poison Ivy was, even her head spinning and banging internally wasn’t enough to lessen how much she loved the feeling of Harley’s smooth, warm stomach against her fingertips. Or the way it gurgled and how she could feel it reverberate against the surface of Harley’s belly. 

And of course, Harley loved the feeling of having her belly so lovingly rubbed ten times more. A nice belly rub never failed to relax Harley Quinn and turn her as docile as a kitten. A kitten with a baseball bat that could do some serious damage but a kitten nonetheless. 

The two continued contently relaxing against one another, with Ivy continuing to run her hand all across Harley’s belly. Harley was all smiles and slumping in a more comfortable position against Ivy. She even wrapped her arms around Ivy’s free arm in a rather affectionate way. 

But then at the same time, the two felt their phones vibrate. It was unfortunate to break up the nice scene. Still, the hung over villains lazily reached into their pockets and pulled their cellphones out to see breaking news notifications.

The Batman was still in critical condition after an encounter with Bane.

“So that’s why we drank so much,” Ivy realized, unable to hide a grin of satisfaction at the news.

“How do some screwdrivers’n a buncha egg sandwiches sound t’ya right about now, Red?” Harley asked.

Ivy looked at Harley as if she’d spontaneously sprouted another head. But despite her better instincts, she just said, “Orange juice is the best drink to go with breakfast. Nothing wrong with Irish-ing it up, right?”


End file.
